


Purpose

by robinwritesallthethings



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M, Guns, Language, Rick Grimes Critical, Romance, Self-Insert, Series, Sex Talk, Violence, Zombies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-29
Updated: 2017-11-29
Packaged: 2019-02-08 12:34:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12864630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinwritesallthethings/pseuds/robinwritesallthethings
Summary: Robin is trapped in the trailer with Negan after Rick’s attack. His reaction to her is not what she expects.





	Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Negan and Robin are trapped together.

The walkers growl and pound on the walls of the trailer as I stare at Negan.

For a moment, we’re both completely still.

Then he moves.

I’m on the floor on my back in a matter of seconds.

I hold my hands up in an obvious gesture of surrender as he disarms me.

When he turns my body to slide my knife out of its sheath, our hips meet and I bite my lip. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a man on top of me, and regardless of what else I think of him, it’s impossible not to admit that he’s attractive.

He checks my handgun and then points it at my head. “This one still has a full clip.”

“There wasn’t any point in firing it,” I answer truthfully. “I didn’t have enough.”

“Yeah, but you could’ve gone down fighting, sweetheart.”

“I don’t intend to go down at all,” I retort. “Not how you mean it, anyway.”

Negan chuckles. “I remember you now, honey.” He licks his lips hungrily. “You are excellent on your knees.”

I chuckle back. “And you are excellent at pointing stand-ins for your dick at my face.” My heart is pounding, but I try to stay calm. “If you’re going to kill me, just get it over with.”

“I don’t kill women unless I absolutely have to, doll. You done good. Smart play.” He pushes up onto his feet and shoves my gun down the back of his pants, then shifts his bat to the opposite hand so he can hold the other out to me. “Let’s get you properly on your ass.”

I hesitate briefly, then put my palm in his, letting him pull me into a sitting position. He backs away and slides down against the opposite wall, putting his finger to his lips to indicate that I should be quiet.

We sit in silence for a moment. I carefully strip my jacket off, holding it up and spinning it around to show him that there’s nothing inside. He nods as I lay it beside me, grinning as his eyes fall to the low neckline of my tank top.

I expect him to make some snarky comment about my rack, but instead, he says, “Your friend Rick is an asshole, princess.”

“Robin,” I tell him shortly.

He raises his eyebrows questioningly.

“My name is Robin,” I clarify. “Not sweetheart, or honey, or doll, or princess. Robin.”

“Well, pardon me,” he drawls. “Robin it is.” He’s clearly enjoying himself. “Your friend Rick is an asshole, Robin,” he repeats, accentuating the use of my name with the charming lilt in his voice.

“You’re an asshole,” I point out matter-of-factly, shrugging at him.

He laughs softly. “Yeah. I am,” he acknowledges. “But he’s gonna get people killed. See, I killed the widow’s husband and the ginger. But I didn’t get them killed. That was your boy Rick. Big difference.”

“I won’t argue with that,” I agree.

“I thought you were feisty, Robin,” he drawls. “I’m almost disappointed.”

The light peeking through the blinds illuminates his sparkling hazel eyes. I can tell that he’s curious.

“The truth is the truth. Do you want me to deny it?”

“I prefer honesty, Robin. And I have to admit that I’m intrigued. You don’t seem to hate me as much as the rest of your people do.”

“On what do you base that astute assumption?” I inquire.

“Hm, let’s see. On the fact that you’re talking calmly with me. On the fact that you’re not arguing about your people that I killed. On the fact that you’re not trying to get your gun back to shoot me in the head.” He smirks mischievously. “And on the fact that I definitely felt your ladyboner for me when I had you on the floor.”

“I don’t need a gun to kill you,” I reply nonchalantly, hoping that he’ll assume the pink color in my cheeks is because of the heat and not his observation. “And you can hate someone and still want to bang their brains out.”

“I won’t argue with that,” Negan teases, echoing my earlier words. “And I bet you don’t need a gun to kill me, Robin. If we’re going to die in here, I may just let you smother me with those awesome tits. Now that would be a way to go.”

“Not helping the asshole thing,” I quip.

His expression becomes serious. “Talk to me, Robin. Why don’t you hate me as much as the rest of them?”

“I didn’t know Glenn and Abraham as long as they did,” I hedge as I mull over how much I should reveal. “I found Alexandria shortly before we met you.”

“I told you I prefer honesty, Robin,” Negan growls. “Don’t bullshit me.”

I suck my teeth thoughtfully. “I’m not bullshitting you,” I finally admit. “Just holding back a little.” I tap my fingers on my knee as he stares me down. “Honesty isn’t always the smartest play these days. It’s bitten me in the ass before.”

“I’m not going to bite you in the ass unless you ask me to, Robin,” he assures me darkly. “I don’t lie to people about my intentions. I think you know that already.”

I turn and lean against the wall so I can see him better. “I do know that, Negan.” He may be an asshole, but he’s never lied to us once, at least as far as I know.

I sigh and start at the beginning.

“We shouldn’t have attacked you. It was stupid. We accepted the word of a group of people we barely knew because we needed what they had without considering other ways to get it. Even if it had ended up being our only option, the plan was bad. They couldn’t tell us anything about you. They didn’t know how many of you there were, or what kind of weapons you might have. They didn’t know who you were,” I add, gesturing to him, “or if you were even real. They thought you were the bogeyman or some shit."

“The bogeyman. I kind of like that.”

“I bet you do.”

“So what happened? You didn’t get a vote?”

I snort. “You only get a vote if you agree with Rick. I never said you were wrong about him being an asshole.”

The sounds outside aren’t letting up. My eyes flick to the window behind Negan.

“We can wait it out a little bit, see if my people can figure something out.” His voice is soothing, and his stance is unworried. His leg is propped up casually against the floor, and his gloved hand is hanging idly between his legs.

“One thing that is sure as ass,” he continues, “is if my people think I’m dead, a lot of folks are gonna die in there.”

“Why?” We know so little about him, his people, and how he runs things. If he’s going to get something out of me, I may as well get something out of him too.

“Listen to me, Robin,” he orders quietly, even though I’m already doing that. “I don’t have to tell you shit. Except maybe the fact that I rubbed one out right where you’re sitting just to calm down a bit.” That Cheshire Cat grin overtakes his face again; he’s clearly pleased with his joke.

“Sounds like a good way to relax.” I spread my legs a bit, mirroring the way he’s sitting, dangling my hand on my thigh right next to my crotch. He follows the movement with his eyes and his grin somehow gets bigger. “What happens if I rub one out right now in the exact same spot?” I muse. “Cosmic explosion?”

“Big bang.” He winks at me gleefully and I giggle.

“You’re such a carnival barker,” I mutter, shaking my head at him.

“I’m a what?”

“A carnival barker,” I explain. “Someone who lures people into a show by describing how amazing it is. You’re a performer playing a part. You have been ever since you had us on our knees.”

“Is that so?” He’s serious again, squinting at me like he’s wondering what I’ve figured out.

“Yes,” I confirm. “You’re always going on about something that seems inane. Your dick. Spaghetti. Sex. That damn baseball bat. But the whole time, you’re figuring everybody out so you can break them down. It’s all just a big distraction. Like the rhyme thing. You shoved that bat in my face and went all eeny meeny miny moe on me, but you were never going to kill me.”

“You sound very sure about that, Robin.”

“Well, you already confirmed it, even if I wasn’t. You said you don’t kill women unless you absolutely have to. But you were always going to kill Abraham, no matter what you made it look like.”

Negan stares at me. Now his gaze is more calculating and less playful.

Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut. But it’s a bit late now.

“Go on, Robin. Tell me how I fucking think.” His voice is just the tiniest bit menacing, and there’s an edge of warning to it.

I should have remembered that showing people you’re smart is dangerous. But somehow I know he would have seen through it if I had tried playing dumb with him.

I swallow audibly and grimace. I don’t want to show any cracks in my exterior, but it’s hard not to when we’re so up close and personal.

“Robin?” Negan prompts me. “I’m getting impatient.”

“Physically, he was the most threatening of us all, and the only one who challenged you,” I point out. “There was no way you were letting him walk away.”

He narrows his eyes, but some of his tension disappears, so I decide to go for broke and just lay all my cards on the table. “Even Glenn wasn’t random. He was the only other person who reacted to you. True, it wasn’t because of you, particularly; it was because he was worried about Maggie. But I think you saw potential there and ran with it.”

“Let me ask you something, Robin.”

“You’ve asked me plenty already,” I blurt out. “Why stop now?”

“The mouth on you,” Negan murmurs. He pauses. “Why are you with those people?” he questions. “You’re obviously smarter than they are. Why stay somewhere where you’re not valued?”

He really knows how to be flattering and insulting at the same time.

“It was practical. There wasn’t anywhere else to go, as far as I knew.” I pause and Negan waits, sensing that I’m not finished.

I might die in here with him. I may as well be honest like he wants. “And I was weak,” I admit softly. “They seemed strong. I wanted to be strong.”

“Well, look at that,” Negan whispers. “That’s my thing, Robin. I like to help people through their weaknesses. Been doing it one way or another my whole life.”

“And how do you help people, Negan?”

“You wanna know why people are gonna start dying in there? Because I’m not there to stop it.” His tone is decisive. He’s not guessing; he’s stating a fact.

But it’s still a deflection. He didn’t really answer my question.

Before he can finish, there’s a loud thud outside and the growling intensifies.

Negan starts to whistle. It’s the same slow, ominous sound that greeted us when we ran through the dark night right into his grasp.

“Are your people out there?” I ask, assuming that the whistle is some sort of signal.

He shrugs. “Who knows?”

A bead of sweat drips from his slightly disheveled dark brown hair and over a delicate scar on his cheek. “Why don’t you take your jacket off?” I wonder. “You must be sweltering.”

“It’s kind of part of the look, Robin.” He winks at me again, then gives in and takes off the jacket, spinning it around to show me that there’s nothing inside.

I roll my eyes. “You have all the weapons, anyway,” I point out. He smirks.

“You helped the weak before this?” I pick up the thread of our previous conversation, determined to make him talk.

“Kids. You don’t show them the way, well, they turn out like garbage. Little assholes become great big ones, so you show them the way. Adults, they need it too. The government. Laws. Religion. Guilt. People are weak.”

There’s a tinge of guilt in his tone. “Everyone?” I clarify.

He nods slowly. “Everyone.”

“You’re weak.” I make it a statement, not a question.

“Right and goddamn wrong,” Negan answers.

A board covering the flimsy wall of the trailer pops off and a rotted arm sticks through, searching for us. Negan gets up carefully, moving to stand between me and the arm, leaning against the wall, cocking his hip and licking his lips.

“We’ll wait a little bit longer,” he decides. “See if my people can pull it together.”

“All right.” He knows this place better than I do. There’s no reason not to listen to him. “Why are you weak?”

“That’s the wrong question,” he scolds me. “It is how I am weak. You see, Robin, the thing is, I am also strong. Everyone is a mix. You can use your weaknesses to drive your strength, and obviously, I am strong as shit.”

He becomes thoughtful for just a second, gazing around the room.

“I took this place,” he tells me, making a grand sweeping motion with his arm.

I can’t help myself. “A trailer. Impressive.”

“There’s that mouth again, Robin. I’d like to spank the sass right out of you.”

I blush deeply. I can’t blame it on the heat anymore, but I still try to hide it with a witty rejoinder.

“Not enough spanks in the world for that, Negan.” The words come out the way I want them to, but my voice is too tight to convince him that I’m not thinking about his hands on my ass.

A smug, satisfied expression settles on his face. “We’ll see, Robin,” he drawls. “I bet your other set of cheeks looks fantastic all pink like those.”

He lets it go for now. “It was a damn free-for-all,” he continues his story. “A loose confederation of assholes, an army made up of gangs of animals, and I brought it all together. The last guy that was in charge, he wasn’t in charge of shit. He allowed people to be weak. I don’t. I make them strong, which makes this world strong.”

He slides along the wall and then kneels in front of me, balancing his wrist on the bat as it rests on the ground. “You’re gonna see, Robin,” he promises, gripping my chin between his fingers. His leather glove is hot and slick with sweat; my lips part alluringly as he pulls me closer to him.

“See, I’m gonna make you my new special project,” he declares. “Gonna make you nice and strong, too. We’re gonna find your special purpose. Hell yes we are.”

“I’m strong,” I protest. “You said so yourself. Everyone’s a mix. I’ve killed.”

“Did you help kill my people while they were sleeping?”

His fingers tighten and a shiver runs up my spine in spite of the heat.

“I was there. But that wasn’t strong.”

“Damn right it wasn’t. But killing isn’t what I’m talking about anyway.”

He stops and I keep pushing. “Tell me how you’re weak.” I am intensely curious about this interesting philosophy of his.

“Why don’t you try and guess?” he challenges me.

“People you’ve killed?”

“I haven’t killed anyone that didn’t need it, Robin.”

“Carl said you treat your workers like slaves.”

“It’s an economy. Some people win, some people lose. But no one’s a slave. No one’s going hungry. And you couldn’t say that before all this.”

“Carl told us about your wives. He said you pressure women into marrying you.”

Negan’s face slowly twists into a displeased scowl.

“I’m just repeating what I’ve heard,” I remind him breathlessly.

“Every one of those ladies made a choice, Robin.”

“I believe you.”

It’s the smart thing to say, but I mean it.

There’s something behind his eyes now. It’s dark and deep and painful.

“Was there a first?” I wonder. “One before all of this?”

Surely his harem is a front just like everything else. A display of power. Something to hide behind. It’s amazing how easy it is to see that there’s so much lingering underneath the surface when you get to spend a little time alone with him.

He stands up and holds his bat close to his face.

“Lucille, give me strength,” he begs, shutting his eyes like he’s praying.

The walkers burst through the boards on the trailer, scrabbling to get in. Negan grabs me by my shirt, yanking me to my feet and shoving me towards the small room at the other end of the little building. “Get in there!” he yells, turning and bringing the bat down on the walker that’s almost inside.

I do what he asks, breathing hard as I listen to him smash the walker’s head into the floor. When the sound stops, I wait, thinking he’ll tell me it’s safe and I can come out.

Nothing.

He couldn’t have been killed by one walker.

Right?

“Negan?” I call anxiously.

I feel him lean against the door and slump onto it in relief.

“All right, Robin. No one’s coming for us. It’s time to go. We have Lucille to help us get to The Sanctuary. We have our knives and your gun. We should use them.” He pauses. “Most importantly, Robin, we have each other. People are a resource. We make it inside, we live.”

I hear him move. “We can take a chance,” he suggests. “We can gut up, play dead ones across the courtyard. What I want is for you to work with me, Robin. That is all I ever want.”

I press my face against the door, knowing that he’s close on the other side. “I’m afraid, Negan,” I confess suddenly. It seems so obvious, but no one thinks of it anymore.

He said he likes to help people through their weaknesses. This is mine.

But I don’t know what he can do about it.

“I’m always afraid. I act tough, but I’m not. I’m really not.” I take a deep, shuddering breath, blinking back tears. “I didn’t kill anyone at the outpost. I was too afraid to try. When I disagreed with Rick’s plan, I didn’t speak up. I didn’t want them to kick me out because I had no place else to go. And when you had all of us on our knees, I was afraid that you were going to kill me. And I’m afraid to go out there now. I’m afraid we’ll die.”

A sob escapes me. My revelations are jumbled, but I can’t think straight, so I just let them pour out of me randomly. “I couldn’t kill my family, Negan. They were dead and I was alive and I couldn’t even end their suffering because I was afraid. I was afraid of getting killed. I was afraid of having to live with killing them. I’m just afraid. That’s how I’m weak.”

“It’s okay to be afraid, Robin,” Negan comforts me. “Fear can make you weak, it’s true. But it makes you strong too. It makes you careful. It makes you smart.” His tone becomes firmer and more reassuring. “I can tell that you’re smart. I know you can do this. I’ll be with you the whole way. We’ll protect each other.”

I’m about to open the door when he speaks again. His voice is unbearably sad.

“My first wife was a real wife,” he reveals. “My only real wife. ‘Til death did us part. It was before this. I lied to her. I screwed around on her. And she was sick. And when she went… When she went, it was during this. I couldn’t put her down. That is how I was weak, Robin.”

I think he’s crying. There’s silence for a moment as he gathers himself.

“And yeah, maybe we do bite the big one here,” he finally admits. “I’d like someone to understand me a little bit before that happens, and based on what you said, it sounds like you get it. But whatever happens, Robin, we have to try. Not trying would be the weakest thing we could do, and if we’re going to go out, I want it to be with dicks swinging, guns blazing, and all that other metaphorical shit. So what I need to know is this. Will you go with me?”

My response is immediate. “I’ll go with you.”

I open the door and look up at him.

“I’m sorry about your wife,” I tell him sincerely.

He stares at me mournfully, then takes my face between his hands and kisses me.

It’s one heck of a kiss.

It’s shockingly gentle, considering what I know of him, but it’s also deeply passionate and filled with desperate need. He kisses every inch of my lips slowly, deliberately, like he’s trying to memorize how I taste.

I tip my head back and let him draw me closer as his mouth opens over mine.

Our tongues touch briefly and then he pulls away.

“I hope we live,” Negan whispers. “Because I want to do a lot more than just kiss you, Robin.”

He presses my knife and my gun back into my hands and leads me over to the dead walker on the floor.

We put our jackets back on and start to cover ourselves in its guts.

“Don’t get any of it in your mouth or your eyes, okay, Robin? I don’t want you getting sick.”

I nod, getting up and moving with him over to the door. “Just stay close to me,” Negan instructs. “We have to let the trailer fill with them before we can get out without being noticed.”

He lifts the blinds, checking outside one more time.

“Let’s make some noise,” he orders.

Negan pounds on the door with Lucille while I scream. When he thinks we’ve drawn enough attention, he moves, smoothly opening the door and standing still as the walkers pour inside.

I struggle to control my breathing. Negan is stoic; he holds my gaze, assuring me with his eyes.

Once the walkers pour in around us, oblivious to our presence thanks to the guts, we head outside.

We’re about halfway to The Sanctuary when I trip over a walker that fell to the ground. I manage not to scream when it grabs my ankle. I get quickly back to my feet, but it’s too late. Another one has noticed.

As it lurches toward me, Negan smashes it over the head with his bat. Another walker grabs him and I shoot it in the head. Normally, I would use the knife because it’s quieter, but maybe his people will hear the shot and come to our rescue.

I use up all my shots quickly, but we make it to the factory platform. Negan rushes the last walker with a howl, reaching back for my hand and jerking me closer to him.

We both look up as walkers start to pour off the raised floor. “Oh, damn!” Negan curses.

As the first one falls, he grabs its shirt and catapults it over our heads. I knock another to the side; I’m not as strong as him, so I don’t think I can lift them.

We can’t do this for long. They’re crowding in behind us too, attracted by all the commotion.

Once it’s clear, Negan sets the bat down and abruptly lifts me, getting me halfway up and then shoving me. I stand and turn, grabbing the bat when I see another walker too close to Negan for comfort.

I bash it over the head and he jumps, gripping onto the edge of the cement. I lean down and grab his belts, helping him crawl up the rest of the way. He guides me to the stairs and we start to run up them.

When we get to the door, we pause to catch our breath. I hand him the bat.

“Thanks. Can’t lose Lucille.”

“She is awesome,” I recall.

“Damn straight she is, Robin.”

I remember the way he prayed to the bat in the trailer and suddenly it clicks. “Lucille,” I murmur. “The first?”

Negan nods carefully. “What I told you back there…”

“Stays between us. No matter what happens.”

“Thank you, Robin.”

“You’re welcome.” I glance up at his face. “You saved my life. You didn’t have to.”

He smiles and leans against the wall. “Sure I did, Robin.”

“People are a resource, right?” I scuff my toe against the ground, hoping that I don’t look too disappointed.

“They sure are. But I also like you.” My eyes widen as he grins cheekily and opens the door.

“Come on, Robin. I hear trouble brewing upstairs.”


End file.
